A way to yesterday
by PT21
Summary: The Doctor could never in reality have the woman he wanted. But he could always have his dreams


A Way to Yesterday

By Carol Sandford

Disclaimer is in force, so leave me be, you brutes!

Rated: M (Playing safe as there is a hot intimate moment)

'There are times, too many times when I wished I wasn't who I was. Right now is one of those times.

I want her.

I miss her.

I miss her so, damn much.

But what would I even do if she were sitting here right next to me?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing and it kills me to know that I can't do what I want to do. I want to be with her, I want to talk to her. I want to whisper things in her ear that should not be heard by anyone else but us. I want…

I want…

To hold her, once, just once like a man holds a woman he loves.

If only…

Oh, God, if only.

I want her back. Hell, I want them both back. If I have to have him so that I can have her, then so be it. I am aware that he has a huge part of her heart and soul, and I know that I have what remains, and that's enough for me. It has to be enough because it's all I can have.

There have been times when I have that part of her with me and I've stared into space and dreamt of us, together. Too many times my arms have reached out for her; to touch her, trace my fingers along the peach-soft contours of beautiful face, but some invisible force has kept me back and kept me from making a total and utter fool of myself. I'd made do with a gentle, concerned touch, or a playful tap that has hidden more than it meant. But each time my hand had touched her I had felt a jolt in my two hearts that has made my breath hitch with a longing that physically hurts.

Really hurts.

Over time I had taught myself to not be so jittery around her. She was too smart to miss that I had been struggling against her pull and I had never wanted to have to explain myself to her. Not from the fear of her laughing in my face, but in case she'd seen the truth, and that would have been the worst possible thing that could have happen to us. All of us. I couldn't hurt Amy and I certainly couldn't have hurt Rory. Nor could I have hurt them as a couple. They were as solid as lovers could be and that was a good thing, especially for Rory because he would have been the one to have picked up the pieces when I'd gone.

And I will go, of that I am heartbreakingly certain. I don't know if it's going to be today, tomorrow, maybe years from now. But I _will_ go, no matter how much I pray that I don't.

And that is the Curse of the Time Lord.

When I lay in my bed at night that is the only time that Amy is completely mine. While she is elsewhere on the ship snuggled up with Rory and I am alone in my big bed with my dreams. I replay the day's events, back to moments when I've caught her watching me, or one of those probably too frequent touches that I should not sensibly have done. I allow myself, in the privacy of my room, to carry it on to the conclusion that I cannot ever have in real time when I continue to battle the eternal war of wills that reside within me daily.

It happened today. Today Amy said something silly and sentimental and that had made me instinctively reach out and gently brush my finger down her soft cheek. Our eyes had met and for just one moment she was all mine. In my big lonely bed with my eyes closed I brought that precious moment back to life. I let it become alive as I dreamt that my hand trailed a path down to her shoulder, then along her arm until I'd linked my fingers with hers and urged her to follow me.

Time slowed down to a pulse as I gently pulled her along to my bedroom. The door quietly closed behind us, locking out the Cosmos and everything that existed within it, and I pulled her gently and unresistingly into my arms. My hands held hers until I finally felt her heart, body and soul give in to us, and then I drew her closer still until I felt her trembling body finally settle against mine and we sighed with the sheer, simple joy of it. As our mouths met and our eyes drifted shut and we prepared to go to a place that neither of us had gone before, her arms rose to curl around my shoulders and then we finally let the dance of lovers begin as passion shimmered between us.

In my mind, in my dream fantasy, she moved against me, my body as well as my mind, and it became harder to breathe. I gasped as I broke away for a nanosecond before the invisible magnet between us pulled me to her again. I couldn't have stopped, I didn't want to stop. _We_ didn't want to stop. This time we'd been given had been a gift, a gift that night alone bestowed on me once in a while. A gift that I wholeheartedly accepted and savoured, and cherished. The normal burden of my dreams slipped away as stardust skittered across my hearts with her eager submission to my desires.

My hand shot into her glorious, flaming mane of silky hair and held her fast as I deepened the kiss and moaned with a power that she welcomed with a whimper of a neediness that echoed my own as our tongues tangled and hankered for possession. My other hand blazed a path down her taut and hungry body as I pulled her hard against me, tipping her back a little in my desperate need to consume her, wanting her to feel the depth of my need. I heard her low, shuddering moan as I moved instinctively against her and I felt her mind and body slip to another level as she in turn answered me by pushing so close to me that my hardness became the tortured soul that was clawing, begging for a way to reach home.

I felt her reach for my bow tie and with a surprise that had us nervously giggling as we began to undress each other in between stealing kisses to keep us linked. Together, we hurried and piece by piece our clothing hit the floor until at last, we stood before each other naked as the day we were born. Our breaths were laboured and unsure, excited at what was to come as we stood before each other, our eyes locked, both of us somehow too scared to look down. But after a few heady moments as we let guilty shame pass us by and acceptance take over, I once more slipped my hand into hers and pulled her towards the bed and eased her unresistingly down onto its edge.

As she sat, I slowly fell to my knees and instinctively her legs fell apart and I moved between them. For a long moment our eyes simply met and shared more than we'd ever dreamed of; hopes, future, love and a deep desire. My hands slid along her soft thighs and hesitated as my thumbs met the silky hair that lay there. My fingers itched to slip further and I watched and waited as Amy's eyes widened and her breath hitch as she waited to see if I would. And as I did, Amy gently cupped my face as I looked up into hers, lowered her head and kissed me so deeply that the scent of our need drifted between us quickly fuelling the desperation that climbed to engulf us both in the heady desire that could no longer be denied, or ignored.

I finally gave in to the silent demand and let my fingers slip into her moistness. That she was wet and ready for me was beyond anything I had dreamed, or imagined. I felt her inner muscles swell and envelop me and my own body swelled with a need that could no longer wait for the union that would make us one. Make us whole. Make me the complete human that I long to be.

No words were spoken, but what could be said? Probably too much, or maybe not enough. Maybe nothing. Silence was telling us much, much more and we let it say everything as I slowly rose and lowered her to the bed settling atop of her as I kissed her with a reverence that could only ever be shared with a woman that you love beyond reason. And I did love Amy, so much. She stole my thoughts constantly, and every road I travelled, always, someway, somehow, led straight back to her. Straight back to this magical moment that I can only share with my inner, secret self.

Gently, slowly our mouths broke apart as I slipped inside her and began to move. Our eyes met once more as I reached for her hands and pinned them down beside her head, anchoring her, keeping her with me as I set the pace, suddenly afraid of it being over before it had all begun. I watched her as I made love to her, and I watched as tears began to pool in those gorgeous soul-shattering eyes before slowly trailing down into her flaming hair as she began to climb with me. I knew they weren't tears of sadness but ones of a passion that went beyond description. I know so because I felt the same way. I shook with the depth of my passion for her, but even so, I couldn't watch her when I finally let go and instead, gathered her into my arms as we rode the storm of ecstasy together. It was then that I cried too.

A dream. It was nothing more than a dream, a dream that kept me from doing something silly. A dream that I could relive anytime I wanted when I needed her most. Some might say that it was masochistic, but I needed those dreams to get by because without them I never felt the meaning of love, and if I didn't have that, then what was the purpose of my life besides saving planets and its occupants? I cried for what couldn't be, but I mostly cried for me.

I am The Doctor. I am the saviour of worlds beyond imagination. I am a man that is always needed, but cannot accept the needs of his own traitorous mind and body. I am to travel around the Cosmos with little more than dreams to keep me sane, dreams that can't be shared. Dreams that keep me going when times get too tough, and for when he meets a woman that he cannot ever have.

Like Amelia Pond.

Like Amy.


End file.
